


A friend I forgot to send home

by jannika



Category: Eye Candy (TV)
Genre: Canon Tag, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jannika/pseuds/jannika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I'll come home, I promise, don't worry about me.</i> A tiny Lindy/Sophia post-canon bit of fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A friend I forgot to send home

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny Lindy/Sophia drabble, based on this tumblr prompt: _Eye Candy for the meme, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say…" for Sophia/Lindy?_

It’s a strange moment, standing there with someone who always has words to say, who at the moment cannot say them back. Lindy imagines them, anyway, imagines the hug she so needs so badly, imagines their couch tea and feeling safe. She imagines Sophia, and how, right now, she’d say she was worried, so worried about Lindy and what she was about to do. ( _I am worried about you, I do worry about you, I was worried about you_ , a refrain that Lindy should have, maybe, thought more about.)

Lindy paces and bites her lip and thinks about everything she’s about to do, about going home- no. Not going home, because this is home, their apartment is home. Sophia is home. Like a past life thing, maybe. Lindy thinks she should say thank you for that, thinks she should say so many things. (Thank you, and I’m so sorry, and you are possibly the best person I’ve ever known and, and.)

It feels useless to say it when Sophia can’t answer, can’t hear, and Lindy has never been good at feeling useless. So she whispers just once into the empty room,

“I’ll come home, I promise, don’t worry about me,” before leaning down to kiss Sophia’s forehead and slip out.

*

When she does come home, when everything feels different and familiar all at once, all she does for three days is breathe and let herself be hugged. Everything she’s seen and found, everything about Sara is swimming in her brain in tangles, and she knows everyone is curious, but they don’t push. Not yet. And she loves all of them for it, her Brooklyn family and the way she slides back in, the way they let her.

On the fourth day, Sophia laces their fingers and pulls Lindy into her room, like so many other times. And Lindy has missed that, missed their relationship and the warmth and contact.

“Okay, so, I know you just got back, but there’s something I’ve been meaning to say, and I didn’t want to say it over text, and you’re here now,” Sophia says, squeezing Lindy’s hand a little as she does. 

“What’s up?” Lindy says, squeezing back, expecting curious questions or worries.

“I just, I really missed you,” Sophia says.

“I missed you too,” Lindy says truthfully. 

“And I heard you,” Sophia says. Lindy frowns.

“You heard me?”

“In the hospital, I could hear things, sometimes? The doctors said they were real, not dreams, and no one else saw you, but you were there, right?” Sophia asks, like maybe it is really, really important.

“Of course I was,” Lindy says, “I couldn’t leave without seeing you.”

“Okay,” Sophia says again. She looks- worried, nervous, something Lindy can’t quite identify, and she feels like this conversation is about more and she can’t identify that either.

“So you heard me?” Lindy says, because she feels like she has to say something.

“You did come home,” Sophia says. She steps a little closer as she does, leans a little. Lindy leans too, even closer almost without thinking. 

“Yeah, I did,” Lindy agrees. 

“But I did worry,” Sophia says. She’s still close and all still feels significant and Lindy-

“I knew you would,” Lindy grins.

“But you’re home,” Sophia says again, and then she leans in even closer and the space between their faces shrinks. The space between their lips and that’s. Oh. 

“Home,” Lindy repeats, and then she closes the space, because she thinks she gets it now, she thinks it all makes sense. And when their lips touch, when she is kissing Sophia and her hands are coming up around Sophia’s face, she knows it does. It’s like warmth and home, like safety and comfort, like this is exactly where she is meant to be.


End file.
